


Aunt Max

by lucdarling



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy gets his shit called out, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Inspired by Fanfiction, M/M, Missing Scene, POV Multiple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26582410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucdarling/pseuds/lucdarling
Summary: Inspired by "Uncle Billy", I wrote some missing scenes which could have had Max Mayfield in her mid-thirties, being awesome. Posted with the author's blessing.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington & Maxine "Max" Mayfield
Comments: 9
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 2: Phone Call

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Uncle Billy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25403812) by [MissGillette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissGillette/pseuds/MissGillette). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy POV set while Steve sleeps in his bed that first winter night. He doesn't want an outsider perspective, but he knows Max is going to learn sooner or later.

He waits until Steve is asleep, octopus arms gently untangled from around Billy's own. He goes for the phone in the kitchen, the cordless, and brings it out to the backyard with his pack of cigarettes.

He dials the number by memory, thick fingers careful on the buttons that seem smaller than normal. Fucking Robert always has to have the newest technology. Billy's grateful right now, means he doesn't have to have this conversation in the kitchen where anyone could overhear and he could have a smoke at the same time, but it's frustrating all the same.

The phone rings in his left ear, cradled on his shoulder as Billy shakes out a cigarette and lights it with a practiced hand.

"Do you know what the fuck time it is?" Max answers, voice scratchy. Billy does the math in his head and realizes it's nearly midnight.

"Robert thought I was gonna get married." Billy says.

"Want me to fly over and kick him in the nuts? It might stop him from making eyes at anything that moves with a skirt, or at least he'd only be able to make eyes." Max offers, half serious. She’d met Robert exactly twice and it was like putting two cats together in a room. Billy had screamed at her the first time, upset she couldn’t be bothered to get along with his frat brother. He’d laughed himself nearly sick the second time, knowing full well that Max could have made nice and let her wield her tongue as a weapon against Robert’s wandering eye.

"Steve kissed me tonight," Billy confesses, taking a drag off his cigarette. He's freezing, standing outside in December in boxers and the bathrobe Theresa always leaves in the guest bath like they're a hotel. She hates him, he knows. He doesn't care about her opinion.

Max's laugh echoes in his ear. "Isn't he like, 12? That’s cute, someone has got a crush on your California blond. Guess he doesn’t know you that well from these once-a-year visits, you’ve always been an asshole."

"He's 16, shitbird." Billy corrects. "I told him his dad was being a stick in the mud about me ever bringing home a girl, that he'd never see me doing that even if I talk about it, y'know?"

"I know," Max tells him, voice quiet. They've been around this exact block before, the lies Billy tells to keep the peace, keep his head attached. At least Max can find guys attractive, even if she'd rather have a girl in her bed. Billy doesn't have that luxury, though he knows the words to say now.

"So he kissed you? Was it good? I bet it was wet." Max returns to the subject of Steve, the teenager still sleeping in the guest bedroom Billy calls his own for tonight despite Steve's own room being up the stairs.

"Like he was made for me, damn it." Billy swears, sucks down the nicotine like it'll help him make a decision. "Just about in tears when I told him he couldn't, then kept saying I was the only one who understood or gave him the time of day. They're ruining the kid, I swear. He's so fucking neglected living here in this backwards shithole, no wonder he perks up like a sunflower when I lend an ear."

"We can talk about the raising of kids later," Max clearly doesn't want to hear Billy's opinion on how the Harringtons raise their only son. She's heard it before, and more than once. "So he's sleeping in your bed right now and you're calling me because..." Her voice lilts up at the end in an unspoken question.

"Needed a smoke," Billy grunts, dropping the butt to the concrete and watching the smoke waft up.

"Right," Max drags out the vowel, disbelief clear.

"He said he loves me," Billy grits out. His eyes jump from the pool cover to the forest to the snow-covered chairs. He hates Indiana in the winter.

"Of course he did." Billy doesn't need to be standing next to Max to know she's rolling her eyes. "He's a teenage boy. They fall in love at the drop of a hat, especially neglected puppies like Steve and they get hard in a stiff breeze. Did you turn him down after that kiss?"

Billy scuffs the callused heel of his bare foot against the rough concrete. The scratch takes the edge off the emotions building in him.

"Uh, not exactly." He admits.

"You're an idiot too," Max tells him, but it's said with fondness. Neither of them are surprised by the decision Billy made, even if he tried to argue against Steve's eagerness and soft lips with logic. He never stood a chance. "Go back to sleep, cuddle your jailbait boytoy and I'll see you in a few days. We're doing lunch at a new cafe that opened up down the street from yours."

"Only if you're buying." Billy shoots back. Their monthly catch up usually revolves around food and-or alcohol. They have two in December, the second one always a few days after Billy's trip out to the Harrington household.

"See you then," Max agrees and then Billy is left with the dial tone in his ear and probably frostbite on his nuts. He hurries back inside, hangs the cordless up and disrobes as soon as he's back in the guest bedroom.

Steve, sweet silly Steve, definitely too young for Billy, sleeps curled up in the comforter. It's pulled up high, only his brown hair and a flash of pale skin showing in the dim light.

Billy sighs through his nose and climbs back in bed. Steve rolls towards his body with a snuffle, slowly loosening up and leaning against Billy. Steve's warm and Billy pulls his young body closer to his so he'll be warmer too. That's what he tells himself, anyhow, as he closes his eyes.


	2. Chapter 4: First Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve POV directly after Chapter 4 - Max gets an eyeful and he meets his aunt for the first time.

Steve wakes, mouth full of cotton wool, to the sound of someone shutting the bedroom door. He feels Billy's bare skin behind him, the weight of his arm over Steve's stomach. So someone else is in the apartment and Steve's stomach flip-flops uneasily when he remembers it's a ground floor where anyone could walk in if Uncle Billy didn't remember to lock the front door.

He nudges Billy, biting at his own lip with sharp teeth.

"Hey, wake up."

Billy's eyes open with a start but take a minute to focus on Steve’s face so close to his.

"Yeah, Steve? You hungry for food?"

Steve shakes his head, curls into Billy's warmth because he can’t stop himself. "Someone was in the room, they shut the door. Someone's in the apartment."

Billy goes still behind him on the Murphy bed and cocks his head to listen. The apartment is quiet over the loud hum of the a/c.

"Don't go!" Steve hisses, worried as the bed creaks beneath them with Billy's body shifting to climb off. "What if it's a robber?"

"I don't think they would have peeked in, Stevie boy." Billy kisses his hair and Steve tries not to melt into the bed at the affection. "Give me a minute to get her out of here." He leaves the bedroom, still clad in those low-slung jeans, without a backwards glance.

Steve waits approximately half a minute before getting up, shivering without Billy to block the chill of the window unit. He puts on fresh clothes, finger combs damp hair and wishes Billy had a connecting bathroom like he does at home. No luck, and darting across the hall means he's sure to be seen.

It's only when he's stepping into the hallway and that disgusting brown carpet Steve remembers Billy said “her.” He tries not to let his brain run away with what-ifs.

He sidles into the small kitchen with its dingy tile. There's only a small table with two chairs and both are taken. Uncle Billy looks up when Steve comes into their line of sight, thin lips rolling into a line when he spies Steve's hand already in his hair.

"C'mere Steve, don't be doing that to yourself."

The woman, short red hair and probably around Billy's age if Steve had to guess, looks up at Billy's voice. There’s a half smoked cigarette held between her pale fingers. Her eyes are blue and cut through Steve, making him squirm and tug harder at the brown strands. He feels like he's being judged and he hates it.

Uncle Billy gently detangles Steve's hand and holds it in his own larger one. Steve stands next to the table, waiting for someone to speak.

The woman turns her gaze to Billy and raises an eyebrow. There’s a scar cutting through it. She taps ash into the tray without looking down. "Really? Is he even legal?"

"If you called before you came over, you could have avoided this entire mess." Uncle Billy's voice is harsh, like when he speaks to Steve's dad and is getting upset about something. It makes his stomach squirm again, heating up like something bad is going to happen.

Steve opens his mouth to apologize, to go back to the bedroom, to leave the room. Uncle Billy doesn't let him, pulls Steve into his lap with a tug. His warm arm holds Steve close as he gets comfortable on his thick thigh, big hand resting on Steve's hip. Steve wonders if his upset is written on his face because Billy pets the skin between his shirt and shorts with gentle fingers, soothing him and the sting of his words.

The woman's blue eyes soften just a touch when she sees how they’re positioned. "Yeah, okay my bad." She looks at Steve again, but this time it's a little friendlier. "Steve, right? I'm your Aunt Max, I suppose." She sounds unsure about the last bit, eyes cutting to Billy who shrugs.

Steve frowns at the both of them. Uncle Billy has never, in all the time Steve has known him, talked about his family.

"You don't look related." is what comes out, no filter between his brain and speaking. The minute Steve realizes the words, he claps a hand over his mouth and knows his cheeks are red.

Aunt Max cackles in delight, Billy joining a minute later with a deep chuckle that Steve can feel when he leans back into the older man. He tries to tuck his face into Billy’s neck in embarrassment but the man won’t let him, raises his shoulder to prevent Steve from getting comfortable.

"No wonder the two of you get along," Max says and stubs out her cigarette. She gives Billy a look that Steve can't read and adjusts her denim jacket. "I'll see you around, kid."

The front door slams shut behind her and Steve tries to slide into the chair she left empty. Billy doesn't let him go, tightens his hold even as he sighs into Steve's ear.

"So, that's your Aunt Max. She doesn't get along with your dad and mom at all, I think she's met them twice."

"Okay," Steve says and he's back to feeling confused. She’s probably too cool for his parents, ripped denim and pins that promote queer rights and feminism. He can’t ever imagine his mother being anything other than politely frigid to someone who dresses like Aunt Max.

"It's fine. She'll call next time, I promise." Billy presses a kiss to Steve's cheek, then another one lower to the curve of his jaw. "So, you want those burgers we talked about? Let me put on a shirt real quick and we can walk there."


	3. Chapter 5: Boardwalk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve POV set between Chapters 5 and 6, one of those days where Steve goes to work with Billy. He and Aunt Max have a chat on the boardwalk.

Aunt Max sits across from him, soaking in the sunshine despite all the freckles already dotting her face and arms. She’s on her second cigarette and Steve has only been here maybe twenty minutes.

They’ve exchanged basic pleasantries neither seemed to actually care about and the potential for conversation faded away into the sound of seagulls, tourists on their rented Vespa scooters and the conversation of the people around them.

Billy is at work today. Steve had offered to sit behind the counter and not cause a fuss, or any sort of mess. Billy’s eyes had crinkled when he had laughed, explaining that Max had asked for some alone time with Steve instead. It would be a better use of his time, Uncle Billy said, and he’d be off the clock by mid-afternoon. Then they could spend the rest of the day together.

His watch has just told him it’s half past one and Billy gets off work soon, Steve hopes, even though Billy’s lunch break was from noon to one and he spent it all with Steve on the boardwalk.

“You know he’s a pig, right? Never can clean up after himself, even if you yell.” Max’s voice breaks into Steve’s thoughts and he jumps, startled.

“Sorry, what?”

Max lights a third cigarette off the remains of her second and drops the filter in the ashtray by her elbow.

“My brother. He’s an asshole, and a slob. You’ve already seen the latter, spending your time shacked up in that awful bachelor pad.”

“I might have cleaned some of it while he was out yesterday,” Steve admits. He crams his hand underneath his thighs so he doesn’t wring them, or start pulling his hair. The bathroom had been so disgusting, Steve couldn’t bear to shower in it another day without using some bleach first.

Max laughs, loud and cheerful. “Good. Keep doing that. Not that you should be a maid or anything,” she inhales quickly and blows a stream of grey smoke away from Steve. “It’s good to keep Billy on his toes. He needs it. I just want to talk to you real quick too, about what you’re doing with him.”

Steve’s stomach flops like a fish going belly up. He swallows hard, afraid to hear whatever’s going to come out of her mouth. Their first meeting hadn’t been the best start; Steve was certain he had blushed for a solid hour once he realized she’d gotten an eyeful.

“Okay,” Steve agrees cautiously. Max sticks her cigarette in the mouth and laces her fingers together, cracking her knuckles.

Steve winces as she laughs, clenching the filter between her teeth. It bobs in her mouth.

“Ooh, your face was so good!” Aunt Max cackles, just like at their first meeting in Billy’s apartment. She calms down, propping her head on one hand and looking directly at Steve. It’s a contrast, he realizes, to how she’s been the whole time - the woman had been looking everywhere around Steve, never directly at him.

Now that she is, Steve feels like a bug under a microscope.

“You know Billy is happy with you, right?”

“I hope he is,” Steve admits. He reaches for his glass of water and is proud that his hand only shakes a little. He doesn’t think it’s noticeable, since her blue eyes never leave his face.

“He’s blue collar through and through, Stevie boy.” Aunt Max says bluntly. “He’s gonna stay a bachelor, ‘cause your kind of marriage ain’t legal. Billy works just enough to pay rent and maybe a little more for a rainy day but there’s no trust fund with his name on it down at the bank. There’s no daddy to call when the tire goes flat or the roof starts leaking. Do you get what I’m saying?”

Her voice is fairly monotone, but each word lands like a dagger in Steve’s heart. Is she accusing him of trying to change his Uncle? He loves his Uncle Billy as he is, with his long hair and calluses and swearing. The apartment isn’t that gross, really.

“You take him to that country club you’ve got a membership to, I guarantee he’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”

“He did.” Steve says fondly. He’d been younger then, the one time Uncle Billy had tagged along with the Harrington family to the club’s Christmas party. Billy had never gone a second time, and his mother hadn’t invited him again, which was a sure sign of a snub in her eyes.

“Yeah,” Max says. “That’s what I’m getting at. Billy is never gonna be one of your high society gays with their limp wrists or fashionable suits and hair done up just so. The kind you probably know, or will know once you grow up a little more.” She bares her teeth and Steve doesn’t mistake it for a smile. He even leans back in his seat a little. For someone shorter than Steve even at his age of 17, she’s terrifying.

Aunt Max looks gratified at his reaction and waves a hand. “Sorry, I know some real assholes who fit that type to a T. They get on my nerves something fierce.”

“It’s fine,” Steve assures her, though it sort of isn’t. His stomach is tied in knots and he’s kicking himself a little that maybe he’s been trying to change Billy. Maybe Steve has been coming on too strong and Uncle Billy is just too nice to say anything to Steve’s face. He wonders what Billy has said to his sister, they live in the same city and surely see each other often.

“Right.” Max drops her cigarette in the ashtray, not lighting another. “Billy likes you, kid. You seem to make him happy, god knows why. You’re a twink with no life experience. But it’s whatever, I don’t really care so long as you’re both fucking wearing some clothes next time I drop by.”

Steve blushes dark red, thinks it must be bright enough to fry an egg on.

“Yeah. And if this thing between you two goes south because of something stupid Billy did, you let me know.” Max scratches what must be her home number on a napkin and slides it across the table towards Steve. “I’ll talk some sense into him.”

She looks up at Steve again, one of those searching gazes that he hates. “You break his heart because of something you did, though? I don’t give a shit that you’re a kid. He’s my brother and I only got one of those.”

Steve shakes his head in agreement, feeling like a bobblehead with the force he uses to show he understands.

Aunt Max smiles, and it reminds him of a shark.

“Pleasure spending the day with you, Stevie.” She looks at her own watch and stands. “He’ll be off in another hour, so I’ll get out of your hair now. Be seein’ you.”

She leaves a handful of crumpled dollar bills for her glass of juice and walks away from the patio. A few minutes later, Steve sees a motorcycle turn from a nearby alley and weave its way through traffic. He doesn’t need to look at the figure to know who it is.


	4. Chapter 9: After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max POV directly after Chapter 9, when Billy leaves his bachelor pad to give Steve time to think alone.

There's a banging on her front door, like someone's using the side of their fist or maybe a boot. Max sighs, drops her beer bottle to the coffee table and gets up to see who it is.

She already knows who it is. 

Billy looks like shit warmed over.

"Are you actively dying?" She snarks, even as she opens the front door wider to let him through. There's a shoebox tucked under his arm.

She gets a glimpse at the name as he sets it down beside him on the couch. Max swears under her breath.

"Steve asked if I slept with him because he looked like Bobby." Billy's voice is hoarse. If Max wanted to look closely, she'd bet his eyes are red rimmed behind the sunglasses he won't take off.

"Oh, so you did sleep with him." Max muses and takes a sip of her beer before settling in the chair opposite the couch. "Then he found your gross memories box, and freaked out."

"I raped him, Max." Billy moans, large hands coming up to hide his face.

Max is silent, a little stunned at the admission, as Billy continues.

"I was drunk, it was too dark to see anything. He said there was blood, just now, because he lied to me the next morning."

"Because Steve is sixteen or whatever, and deep in the throes of young puppy love." Max rolls her eyes. "Technically sure, it's statutory rape. You're looking at a hefty fine and will probably get the shit kicked out of you in prison if you even make it there."

Billy's hands come down and he glares at her.

Max shrugs, face calm. She’s had this speech prepared since Christmas, since the phone call. "You wanted to go down this road, Billy. You know the penalties. You know damn well the authorities won't give a shit about Steve's crocodile tears. Bet he's pretty when he cries," she says viciously, twisting the knife because Max can't help herself.

"Shut up." Billy's voice is a low growl.

Max licks her lips and backs off. "Okay so that was the first time. It's shitty for everyone, right? Next time, you'll do it soft and sweet and plenty of lube," she laughs. "If he lets you near him, after that." She nods her head towards the box sitting to the left of Billy.

"He wanted time to think, without me there."

"Might be the smartest thing I've heard about him so far," Max drains her beer bottle. She doesn’t say they met in person before the camping trip. "Want a beer? I'm guessing you're staying the night."

"I can go crash at-"

"Nope." Max cuts him off, popping the 'p' and dismissing his words with a wave of her hand. "Mi casa es su casa. Just remember it takes you an extra twenty minutes to get to the shop."

She gets up to pull two beers from the fridge, caps clattering to the counter with a flick of her wrist. Billy reaches out for the beer and swallows half of it before Max even sits down again.

"So the box?" Max nods towards it.

"Stevie decided to clean my room. Thought he was being nice."

"You live in a shithole. The least it could use is a teenage boy’s idea of a cleaning.” Max contributes with another roll of her eyes.

"I came home at lunch and all the damn Polaroids were lying everywhere, video playing in front of him."

"You made porn with Robert?" Max is shocked. She knew they had a fling, of sorts, in college because Billy could sweet talk anyone but to actually film it was something that surprised her.

Billy shrugs, picks at the bottle's label with the edge of a nail. "Just wanted a memory to keep for myself. He was going off to Theresa the next week."

"Oh, Billy." Max knows her voice sounds sad, hopes it isn't mistaken for pity. "You're an idiot, keeping that around. Nothing good was gonna come of it."

"Yeah, I got that message loud and clear," Billy bites out, jaw clenched. "Kicked out of my own place for the night so he can think."

"Oh no," Max retorts back, spitting her words out. "Don't put this on your boy toy. You're the fuck up, stringing him along because he looks like the one that got away. Your Bobby was never going to play house with you. He's a heterosexual jerk who thinks all gay men have it in for small children. Remember how you called me about those accusations when Steve was like, nine? Ten? You knew what kind of man he was in college, Billy, you just ignored it in the interests of getting laid. Age didn't make Robert Harrington any better."

Billy heaves a sigh.

"So now Steve knows you had a thing with his dad. Gross, even for you. So he's taking the night to think.” Max parrots his words and pulls a face as Billy finishes his beer. “You're lucky he didn't demand to be put on a plane home first thing tomorrow."

The phone rings, interrupting Max's train of thought and any response Billy would have. They both turn to look at the phone as it rings a second time.

Max heaves herself to her feet, tucking her hair behind her as she crosses the room. "Yeah, it’s Mayfield."

Her eyes widen involuntarily at Steve's voice on the other end of the line. Billy sits feet away, blissfully unaware.

"Hey kid," Max greets him once he pauses to take a breath. Billy's head jerks up and he pushes his sunglasses up into his curls. "How's it hanging?"

Max listens to Steve complain and talk through all his feelings. It's exhausting. Max makes a grabby motion to her mostly full beer bottle on the other side of the coffee table as she settles in the chair closest to the phone, thankful the cord stretches that far. Billy hands it to her and stalks off to the small kitchen to figure out dinner for the two of them.

"Uh-huh," Max says into the phone, tuning in again to listen to a recounting of her brother's fuck ups. She's never been one for the girly chats seen in teenage movies, but clearly the kid needs someone in his corner. "So tell me what you're thinking of doing..."


	5. Chapter 10: After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max POV after Chapter 10, on the day that Steve leaves California.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the final ficlet featuring Aunt Max, having to put up with Uncle Billy and his boy Steve's shenanigans. Someone should really pay her for her troubles. Let me know what you think of this fanfic of a fanfic in the comments at the end, pretty please?

Max accompanies them to the airport, since Billy took the day off work and she never works weekends. It’s the weekend they’d be having lunch and catching up anyhow. Steve’s face falls a little as he opens the passenger door and tilts the seat forward for her to climb in, clearly Billy didn’t warn him. Max doesn’t care.

She sits in the backseat and stares out the window as the tires roll down the highway, feeling her years and also more than a little bit like she’s gone back in time. It’s the same Camaro, with smoke stains on the ceiling and the music a little too loud. Billy’s still an idiot.

Normally, she’d be in the front seat with her legs nearly dangling out the window since Billy liked to knock them off when she puts her sneakers on the dash. Today, that special seat goes to the kid her brother is dating. If you can even date someone who can’t legally drink. Thinking about the logistics makes her head hurt, so she gives up and digs in her purse for her pack.

“Hey, don’t smoke in the car.” Billy calls out, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror through his aviators.

“Since when?” Max laughs and flips the lighter around her fingers. It’s not a Zippo like the one Billy’s had since his mid-twenties; instead, Max uses and loses the cheap plastic ones on a regular basis. She remembers to pay her rent and bill from PGE on time at least, which is more than she can say for other occupants of the car.

She watches as Steve’s hand creeps from rubbing across his own thigh to rest on top of Billy’s on the gearshift and understands without words where the order came from. Max holds the scoff in behind clenched teeth and rolls her eyes. Steve doesn’t notice. Billy’s lip curls up in a smirk before he wipes it away with practiced ease.

Soon enough they’re at the airport, easing into a parking space between a Buick that’s seen better days and a Chevy pickup that both Billy and Max glare at as second nature even though it’s not the same as the one they both loathe.

“Got everything?” Billy’s voice is a low rumble as he hefts the luggage out of the trunk. Max leans against the Camaro and waits, arms crossed. “If you left anything behind, you’ll see it again at Christmas.” 

“Rather have you,” Steve says not so quietly. Max tilts her head back to stare at the concrete parking garage above them as the kid sways into her brother’s orbit, big eyes glazed and hopeful.

She really doesn’t need to see them suck face, it’s bad enough she has to hear it happening right next to her. Max counts to fifty in her head and coughs, breaking them apart. Steve jumps back like he’s been stung.

“Wouldn’t want you to miss your flight,” Max says, saccharine sweet. Honestly, it’s a miracle no other cars have already driven past looking for an open spot. Steve’s head tilts towards the fancy watch on his arm as Billy raises his head to look at her with thinned lips.

“No, I don’t need to check in for another ten minutes at least.” Max believes him, considering she’s flown on an airplane all of twice in her life.

“One more?” Steve practically begs of Billy. Max puts a cigarette in her mouth and inhales as they kiss a final time. She walks behind them as Steve carries his own bag over a slim shoulder.

Max holds her cigarette in the hand that doesn’t reel Steve in for a hug. He’s just about her height but will be taller than her by the time he’s finished with high school, she knows.

“Come back out west anytime you feel like it,” she says with a smile that surprisingly, doesn’t feel false. Steve smiles back, eyes wide. She won’t necessarily miss him, but he’s cute like a puppy is cute.

“I’d like to,” he shrugs as he steps away from her, lanky arms falling away from her shoulders. They both know it’s not up to him but his parents and their dime.

“Well, you’re not gonna see me at Christmas.” Max huffs and that gets a small laugh. “Safe flight and all that jazz.” She moves to the side so Steve can have his Uncle Billy for one last embrace. He clings like he’s younger than his already young age.

Max doesn’t say anything else after that, even as they stand at the gate together and watch Steve hand his boarding pass over to the agent. He turns and waves before walking through the door. Billy lifts his hand and waves back, like a puppet. She bumps Billy’s shoulder with her own when he stays standing at the glass, watching Steve’s airplane taxi and take off into the clouds.

“C’mon,” she says, dropping her finished cigarette into a nearby butt bin. Billy’s face is closed off as he turns away. He follows her silently through the airport and back to the parking garage.

“So,” Max draws out the vowel when they’re both in the Camaro. Billy’s already lighting up but Max waves away the offer of a second cigarette.

“Gimme a break, Max.” Billy says gruffly. “Just let me smoke in peace.”

“Fine,” Max sighs before her tongue turns sharp. “Wallow like an overgrown man child. Want me to drive so you can stare out the window longingly?”

“You’re not driving my car.” Billy puts the key in the ignition. If it wouldn’t damage the Camaro, Max knows, he would rev the engine a few times just to make his point.

“Didn’t ask to.” Max leans back in the passenger seat. She does hold her thoughts in until they’re back on the highway.

“So,” she starts again. “You’re going back out there at Christmas.”

“I always do,” Billy says, flicking his butt out the window. “We’re still gonna make this work between us.”

“Despite the distance and the age difference.” Max snarks. “Steve’s a sweetheart, Billy. I mean that truly. He’s a little bird in a golden cage, who came to slum it for part of his summer. You’re going to be a distant memory to calculus homework and the sports team and whatever else his little town throws at him.”

“He’s gonna call me every week and we’re gonna get off together. He wants to give it a shot.”

“Ew.” Max wrinkles her nose and punches out at Billy’s shoulder without looking at his sleazy grin. “Okay so he’s giving it a shot, probably all hopeful for the time he turns eighteen and stops being jailbait. Are you going to be happy like that for the next two years? Clandestine phone calls when his parents aren’t around and maybe another trip next summer where you screw like bunnies before he returns to his pretty Midwestern life?”

“Better than fucking Johnny again,” Billy shrugs. His fingers start tapping on the steering wheel in time with the beat.

“That’s a real low bar.”

“What do you want me to say, Maxine?” He snaps at her as they pull into the parking lot of the diner they frequent. “Steve wants to give us a shot, I’m not gonna say no.”

“You’re going to break your own heart.” Max counters, voice chilly. Her fingers curl into fists but she doesn’t strike out.

“Probably, but it’ll be fun while I have him.”

“God, there’s no getting through to you.” Max drags a hand down her face and opens the passenger door, swinging her legs out. “Let’s go eat and not talk about your boy toy for the rest of the day.”

“You brought him up first.” Billy reminds her as they walk into the diner.

“Shut up, Billy. It’s your turn to buy and I want waffles.” Billy looks bemused as he slides into the vinyl booth but turns his attention to the laminated menu.

Max knows they’ll have this talk, this intervention, at least twice more because Billy doesn’t think too far ahead. He doesn’t like to plan for the future, is fine taking life as it comes. She hopes he’ll be just as good when Steve eventually moves on.

He will be, she knows. Billy is always okay, just like her. They’re survivors.


End file.
